In Your Hands
by beckyofdownton
Summary: After an encounter with a band of Klingon rebels goes badly, Spock suffers a serious injury that affects his ability to recollect short-term memory. As a result, Jim is preoccupied with his condition and makes it his duty to bring Spock's memories back. Kirk/Spock romance, predominantly. Rated K for now, the rating will increase substantially later.
1. Chapter 1

"Captain! Shields are down to 32%!"

"Fire! Fire! Fire!"

"We've got nothing left, Captain, weapons are failing!"

"Hull breach on decks A through C, sir!"

The ship lurched sharp to port, knocking several people off their feet.

"We're not going to make it, Captain!"

"Captain, we must yeild!"

"Hard about!"

"They're targetting the bridge, Captain, prepare for – "

There was a sudden shower of sparks and a calamitous creaking of the bending of metal as the hull was struck hard.

Fumbling his way across the bridge, Spock felt both blessed and cursed to be apart from the fear he knew was filling each one of these officers. He could feel a warm trickle of blood down the side of his face but he knew he could not pause to clean himself off. This was a life or death situation and his minor injuries were of little importance. The ship lurched again, much sharper to port, and Spock found himself falling hard against the communication panel. He gasped in pain, but managed to pull himself back up to his feet. His side was throbbing but there was nothing he could do about it right now. After all they had been through to get here, he was not about to give up Enterprise to a band of rogue Klingons.

"It is imperative that we yeild, Captain!" Spock cried, clutching at his side.

The screen showed a Bird-of-Prey highly damaged, yet still functioning. He watched on as the Klingon ship was blasted with everything Enterprise had.

"That's it, Sir. Weapons are offline."

Spock looked around wildly and caught the Captain's eye. Jim was bleeding heavily from the mouth but stood strong in front of the captain's chair. In that moment, Spock stared the Captain down. In all these months since they had left, Spock had learned just how far Jim's tenacity could carry him. Spock knew that without force, Jim would not yield until the very last moment. What Jim had a hard time pinpointing was when precisely that last moment was.

"Captain!" Spock said, wincing as the effort stung his side.

Jim stood there for one moment longer, holding Spock's gaze. Gritting his teeth, he turned to face Uhura.

"We yield. Hail them!" Jim yelled, frustration colouring his voice.

To Spock's relief, the ship stopped its rocking as the Klingons ceased their fire.

"Giving up so soon, Captain?" a swarthy-looking Klingon came on screen, his hair dishevelled and lank on his shoulders.

"We yield, Toq." Jim said, wiping his arm slowly across his mouth.

"An honourable soldier dies, he does not surrender." Toq replied, baring rotted, pointed teeth as he laughed.

"I am not a soldier." the Captain replied proudly, his jaw smeared with blood.

"Nor am I." Toq replied. "Now, hand over the deuterium."

Jim shot a glance over at Spock. Spock nodded at the Captain slowly. He had a plan.

"If we give you our deuterium, our warp engine will be completely offline. It will take us years to get home." Jim said stubbornly.

"I am more than willing to open fire again, Captain. Garthan and I had a bet as to how much longer it would take to puncture your bridge. Your petty concerns mean nothing to me." Toq laughed, leaning forward in his seat. "Prepare to be boarded."

The image of Toq was replaced once again by the Bird-of-Prey and Jim's head fell forward slightly in defeat.

Spock immediately turned around and hit the communicator. "Mr. Scott, I need you to get to the transporter as soon as possible."

Whipping around, he pointed at three ensigns – Jones, Lucas and Ogilvie, "I need you to create enough interference that the Klingons can not transport aboard."

"Spock, who do you think you are?" Jim asked suddenly, walking forwards.

"Listen to me, Captain. It is our only chance of getting out of here with enough deuterium to take us back to the next refueling station." Spock said, walking quickly along the bridge to the turbolift.

"You do not give the orders around here." Jim growled.

"Captain, now is not the time to let your baser emotions get in the way of logic. Please set your frustrations aside and follow me." Spock said, stepping into the turbolift.

Jim followed, quickly, but for a moment Spock was worried that it was only so that he could punch him right across the jaw. "What do you have planned?"

The phaser point digging into the underside of his jaw, Spock watched as the barrels of deuterium were rolled carefully by the Klingon rebels onto the transporter pad. Jim was standing across from him, a phaser point held against his temple. Jim held his gaze, a fresh trail of blood trickling out of the corner of his mouth and mixing with the dry on his jaw. A small smile played at the corner of Jim's lips and, paired with the grotesque amount of blood caked on to his face and neck, and Spock found it entirely disturbing. He watched carefully as each barrel was rolled away, counting slowly in his head. Finally, the Klingon that was holding him at phaserpoint released him and headed towards the transporter pad. A quick word to his compatriot in Klingon and Jim's captor released him, too. Together, they disappeared onto their own ship.

Without wasting a second, they split up. Spock turned the corner quickly to where Scotty had been held up at phaserpoint behind the transporter controls. All around him, crew members were running to their battle stations, preparing for immediate evasive action. If this was going to work, the crew needed to be perfectly on their mark.

"Mr. Scott, report." Spock said.

"Locked and loaded, Sir. Awaitin' the Captain's signal." Scotty said, barely looking up from where his hands were flying across the control panel in front of him. "I can't hold this barrier for much longer, Sir."

"It is imperative that we cut off all transportation into and away from Enterprise. I trust you." Spock said, reading over Scotty's shoulder as calculations, vectors and diagrams flew up on the viewscreen.

"I can give you two minutes, Sir."

Spock waited, supervising Scotty's calculations, for Jim to call down from the bridge that the Klingons had left. As much as Spock tried to suppress his anxiety, his palms were perspiring and he could feel his heart racing.

_Jim was supposed to have reported by now,_ Spock thought, clutching at the pain in his side.

"Mr. Scott." Spock said slowly, looking from the calculations up to where a sparkle was starting to appear in the transporter.

"Somethin's coming through, Sir! I cannae stop it!" Mr. Scott yelled, as the faint outline of an object began to rematerialize on the transporter pad.

"Get out of the way, Mr. Scott!" Spock said, grabbing Scotty with all the strength he could summon and throwing him out of the way into the hall.

Spock watched as the barrel rematerialized on the pad in a mix of shock and horror. The beeping was already coming loud and clear, echoing from the inside of the barrel that had just finished reappearing.

"Explosion in transporter room!" Spock yelled as loud as he could. Before crouching down behind the console, Spock had the time to shut the blast door to the transporter room.

The last thing he remembered was the fear he felt between the last beep and the boom of the explosion.

* * *

"Spock?"

The light was blinding. He tried to shut his eyes but he was not sure if he remembered how.

"Spock? Hey, buddy, can you hear me?"

There was a high pitched ringing in his ears. Paired with the light, he wished suddenly for the darkness he had come from.

"Spock?"

There were people around him. He could feel them.

"Come on, man!"

He propped himself up on his elbows. Colours were starting to pour into his vision and he could make out shapes.

"Heeeey!"

Blinking furiously, people's faces started to flood into his range of vision.

"Where am I...?" He said more to himself than to the myriad of people around him.

"Sick Bay. You've been here for days."

While his mind was foggy, he was starting to remember.

"An explosion." He mumbled.

"Yeah, you saved a lot of people."

"And banged yourself up, too."

Slowly, his name came back to him. "I am Spock."

"Yeah, good job."

Spock sat up and he was hit by a wall of pain so intense he cried out. There were suddenly hands all around him and something being jabbed into the side of his neck. The pain became manageable, but only barely so.

"You recognize me?" a stern-looking man in a lab coat said, leaning over him.

"I believe so." Spock responded, leaning back against the pillows.

"What's my name?"

Spock's eyes narrowed as he searched frantically for a name.

"Doctor..." Spock said slowly.

"Good enough." the man said, clapping him gently on the shoulder.

There was another man and a woman there. Both human. He knew that they had something to do with this place, but he could not pinpoint what. The woman had a hand clapped over her mouth and was avoiding looking directly at him.

The blond man sat down on the bed next to him.

"Jim." Spock said before he even realized he knew who this person was.

"Yeah." Jim responded, a small smile on his lips.

Jim was badly bruised and his left eye was swollen half-closed. Dark red gashes decorated his jaw and forehead.

"What happened to you?" Spock asked, adjusting himself on the pillows behind his back.

Jim looked up at the woman behind him and the doctor meaningfully. They both turned and left as if on cue.

"The deuterium, Spock. It exploded. There was a miscalculation." Jim said slowly.

"Deuterium..." Spock murmured, trying to recall the substance to which Jim was referring. He had a feeling he knew what it was but, at the moment, he couldn't remember. "A miscalculation seems improbable."

"At least the explosion didn't knock all of you out." Jim chuckled.

A silence fell between them and Jim ran a hand through his dark blond hair. "Do you really not remember anything?"

"I remember quite a lot, Jim." Spock said, looking down at his hands. Several of his fingers were bandaged and a dark green stain had spread from the palm of his hand onto the wrappings. "I am a half-vulcan-half-human by the name of – " He uttered a name so unrecognizably Vulcan Jim barely caught it. "Also known as Spock."

"I've never heard your first name before." Jim said with a small smile.

"It is quite unpronounceable for most species." Spock replied. "I remember most of my life and that I am currently serving on a starship. I would assume that this is the ship."

"Correct." Jim said slowly. "Do you know her name? Any names of the shipmates?"

"Negative." Spock replied. "I do not remember."

Jim's brow furrowed deeply and he began playing with the edge of Spock's sheet.

"Jim? Have I upset you?" Spock asked slowly.

"Naw." Jim said, smiling slightly. He looked as if he was about to say more but instead clapped a hand on Spock's leg and stood up. "I'd better leave you to rest."

"I would like to walk around the ship, Jim, if I might. It may help me to repair some of the affected neural pathways." Spock suggested, sitting up in spite of the pain in his side and his head.

"Spock, you'd better not." Jim said, moving forward.

"May I enquire as to why?"

"You might want to take a look at yourself." Jim said, passing Spock a mirror from the counter before turning and leaving the room.

Raising an eyebrow, Spock lifted the mirror to his face. The person that stared back at him was almost unrecognizable. A large part of the hair over his forehead had been singed off and large, forest green burn marks covered his forehead and the side of his face. He wondered absently how deuterium could have exploded in such a way as to cause these contusions as he traced the line where the back half of his right eyebrow used to be. He knew now why that woman had been so upset by his appearance.

"Don't worry, there won't be much scarring. Though I can leave some for you if you think it might help your chances with the ladies."

The doctor came back into the room, his hands in the pockets of his lab coat.

"No thank you, Doctor. I would appreciate a scarless recovery." Spock said, watching as the doctor prepared another hypospray.

"Yeah, no problem. You can get out of here tomorrow or the next day. In the meantime my name's McCoy." He shrugged and as an afterthought added, "Or Bones. But only to Jim."

"Yes. Dr. McCoy. I remember." Spock said, memories starting to take shape again as he spoke the name.

"Now, we've got a bit of work to do on that memory of yours. I'm going to give you a hypospray, but I don't imagine it will take full effect on the pre-frontal lobe of your brain for another three days. You damned vulcans are so resistant to everything this serum won't have much effect until then." Dr. McCoy sighed.

"This serum will restore my memories?" Spock asked, slightly skeptical.

"It should. I mean, when short-term memory loss occurs it's usually due to damage in the pre-frontal lobe. It should restore at least some of it. The rest you can learn through going back through your ever-so detailed notes Starfleet keeps nagging us about. Your logs are so damned detailed that Starfleet's about to write a list of regulations based on them!" Dr. McCoy grumbled.

"An honour." Spock replied, both eyebrows raised.

"Well, not really. But your logs are detailed enough that you should be able to catch up on some of the more elusive details the serum can't catch. I can have it uploaded to a PADD for you, if you want. I know you would never miss a day of work." McCoy laughed.

"Humour is a difficult concept." Spock said, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, you're fine." McCoy smiled, clicking his pen and sticking it into the pocket on the front of his jacket.

"I will take the PADD, however." Spock said.

"Well, I'll get an ensign to do it for you. You're not the only one affected by the blast. My Sick Bay's overrun with scrapes and bruises." McCoy said, walking to the door. "Oh, and Spock? Don't let Jim come back in here. I know you don't mean any harm by it, but Jim's kinda shaken up by the fact that one of his best friends doesn't remember the friendship."

Spock nodded slowly, admittedly shocked by the revelation.

"I don't know how much you remember, but he's fond of you. He's going to get his panties in a twist over this anyways, so I'm not sure how much you can really avoid that." Dr. McCoy said, loading up a hypospray cartridge and pressing it to Spock's temple. "After this you'll be knocked out for a good six hours. You might have some weird dreams, but I expect you'll regain some memory of the last months."

Spock nodded slowly and leaned back against the pillows. The hypospray was administered and Spock was sent reeling into the darkness of a deep sleep.

* * *

"Nero." Spock said quietly, sitting straight up in bed.

It was dark in the room and he was quite alone. It was sometime after 23:00 hours and the curtains were drawn. It was dark and he could not see outside of his room. He could suddenly feel a deep, heavy throb of pain surge out from his ribs. He realized how lucky it was that the fall had not damaged his heart.

He had been dreaming about something that he knew had happened years ago. He had a vague memory of the events. It involved a tattooed man named Nero. The name _Narada _also hovered on the edge of his tongue but he couldn't remember what it meant. He had a headache along with the pain in his side and on his face and the attempt to recollect his dream wasn't helping it.

He lay quietly for a few moments, trying to ignore the pain as it started to take over him. He needed another dose of painkillers and he was starting to feel frustration surge up inside him at the situation he was in. He knew he was of importance to this ship and here he was, about as useful to Jim and the crew as a plomeek. It was enormously frustrating. When he glanced down to the side table he noticed, however, that someone had brought him a PADD. It was, at least, a small consolation that he could bring himself back up to date on the goings-on on board the Enterprise.

He powered the machine on and began scrolling through the many logs he had been keeping over the past couple months. Dr. McCoy was right – he had been thorough. He spent the next hour or so poring over the logs from the earliest days of the mission. He was finding, however, to his disappointment that what he learned was slowly fading away minutes after listening to it. He found that he had to listen to the first log three times before he could hold onto all the necessary information. It was enormously trying.

_Beep Beep._

"Spock?" Jim's voice sounded as the communicator in his room turned on.

"Yes, Jim?" Spock asked, clearing his throat.

"Did I wake you up?" Jim asked tentatively.

"No, I was studying my first officer's logs." Spock replied.

"You never cease to amaze me, Spock. A man with half a face and he's still studying." Jim laughed.

"That is illogical Captain. Had I only half of my face I would certainly have died." Spock replied, surprised.

"It's a joke." Jim said.

"Again, this humour. I do not understand." Spock said.

"Sorry. I know." Jim sighed.

"Captain, may I enquire as to the reason for your call?" Spock asked, gritting his teeth as another wave of pain washed over him.

"Yeah... I couldn't sleep. I kept picturing you all alone and I felt kinda guilty." Jim replied.

"Sir, I assure you that aside from the pain, I am perfectly comfortable being here alone." Spock said.

"The pain? Didn't Bones give you something for that?" Jim asked, concerned.

"Yes, but that was many hours ago. I believe I have fractured ribs." Spock said.

"Yeah, I know. Three, actually." Jim said.

"You have studied my medical records well." Spock observed, his hand moving to clutch at his swollen side.

"No, not really. It's kind of hard to ignore Bones' medical rambling when he gets going." Jim said.

"I see." Spock said. "Jim, are you alright?"

Jim was silent for a moment. "Yeah, I'm alright. I just... Ah. Nevermind. I'll come see you first thing tomorrow morning, okay?"

"Captain, Dr. McCoy instructed me to accept no visitors." Spock replied, remembering Dr. McCoy's words of caution from their previous conversation.

"I'm sure he did." Jim said, laughing. "Come on, I bet you could do with a grilled cheese sandwich. I'll bring you one for breakfast."

"Sir, I do not know what a grilled cheese sandwich is."

"Spock! Come on! I know they're your guilty pleasure. I see you up at night in the mess with them all the time." Jim laughed.

"I... Jim, I do not know what grilled cheese is."

Jim's laugh faltered. "I guess you don't."

"I apologize, Captain, this has upset you?"

"No, no. You're pretty worried about that. I know you've given up a lot for us – the crew – so I'll bring you a grilled cheese sandwich tomorrow and I promise you won't regret it."

"I am sure that I will not." Spock said, clenching his jaw against the pain.

"Oh, and I'll page McCoy to come and shoot you up again."

"Thank you. Is that all, Sir?"

"Yeah. That's all. Goodnight, Spock."

"Goodnight, Captain."


	2. Chapter 2

"Hey, Spock."

Spock opened one eye slowly. It took a moment, but when he saw Jim's face at the door he realized where he was.

"Captain. It is quite early." Spock said, glancing over at the clock on the wall. It was barely 0600 hours.

"Yeah, I know. Bones is still sleeping." Jim whispered, checking the room behind him quickly before closing the door. "I brought you a treat."

"That was quite unnecessary, Captain." Spock said, watching as Jim pulled the built-in table out of the side of Spock's bed.

Jim laid out a tray complete with the sandwich Spock assumed was the grilled cheese, a couple pieces of fruit and finally a glass of some indeterminate juice.

"Thank you, Sir, but I am certain that I will be brought breakfast by one of the nurses." Spock said, glancing from the breakfast to Jim.

"Yeah, but I thought I might as well do something nice for you. Least I can do and everything." Jim said, clearling his throat. "And can't you call me Jim?"

Spock had to admit, the smell of the warm sandwich was quite pleasant. "Yes, I suppose I could."

"I didn't know if you liked ketchup with it. I know some people do." Jim shrugged.

"I have never had ketchup." Spock replied, glancing around for a knife and fork. With a sinking feeling, he remembered that humans often ate sandwiches with their hands. It looked rather greasy.

"Jim, did you bring any cutlery?" Spock asked.

"Just a spoon for the fruit. It's a sandwich! Just pick it up and eat it!" Jim laughed, fishing a plastic spoon out of the pocket of the sweater he was wearing over his uniform.

Spock eyed it suspiciously and decided it may be more hygienic to eat with his own hands after all. Tentatively, Spock lifted the sandwich and took a bite. It was instant heaven and the taste brought back a rush of memory almost instantly.

"I remember now." Spock murmured, finishing the sandwich in a matter of bites. "Grilled cheese."

"Yeah! I thought you might. I know you try to hide how much you love them." Jim laughed.

"Quite delicious, Capt – Jim." Spock smiled, catching himself in time.

"I'm glad. And you're looking quite a bit better." Jim said, peering at Spock's face and head.

"Thank you. I am feeling much better than last night." Spock said, realizing that the pain in his ribs had decreased to something akin to muscle ache. "The doctor is quite skilled."

"Don't let him catch you saying that, or we'll never deflate that head of his." Jim said, glancing over his shoulder at the clock.

"Pardon me, Jim?" Spock asked, not quite understanding the metaphor.

"Just means the man's egotistical." Jim said with a conspiratorial smile.

"I see." Spock nodded, picking up a small berry with his fingers and popping it into his mouth.

"Alright, I'm going to do my rounds and when I get back, I hope you're sleeping." Jim said, pointing a finger at Spock.

"I will do my best." Spock nodded, watching as Jim left, shutting the door behind him.

Spock was touched by Jim's gesture of kindness. He had never been brought breakfast before by anyone but his parents or nurses. It was a pleasant start to the day.

"Hey, I thought I said to not let him in here!"

Spock looked up as Dr. McCoy pushed into his room.

"Dr. McCoy, I admit that there was nothing I could do to make him leave. It is illogical to assume that with my wounds I could physically remove him." Spock stated, his juice halfway to his mouth. "Is it not your job to keep people away from your patients?"

McCoy raised an eyebrow, his mouth pressed tightly together.

"He seemed in fine spirits this morning." Spock said, realizing he may have come across as rude.

"Yeah, But I'm 90% sure he stayed up all night." McCoy sighed.

"I apologize, Doctor, but it is not my fault that the Captain did not sleep." Spock said, confused by the doctor's irrational behaviour.

Instead of responding, McCoy shot Spock a glance, "Now sit up and let me give you a bit of a painkiller."

* * *

The rest of the day went extremely slowly. He was recovering quickly, however, with regular injections from Dr. McCoy. It had been several hours since the antidote had been administered yet he still remembered very little. He had flipped through the PADD again several times, trying to refresh his memory but it was of no use. Even though he had listened to many of the early logs only last night they had not stuck with him. He had a vague inkling of a run-in with Romulans some yearsa go, but he had no memory of anything more.

He had had plenty of chance to contemplate his environment, however. From his private room he had had the chance to observe Dr. McCoy as he did his rounds. The doctor had not been mistaken; Sick Bay was practically overflowing with injured crewmembers. To his disappointment, Spock could not identify a single face as they came through the Sick Bay doors. Spock had realized by now that he was this ship's First Officer. Knowing himself as well as he did, he knew that he would have made an extra effort to learn all the names of his subordinates regardless of how many were onboard. There was no guarantee that all his memory would come back. It may come back partially, or fully. But for now, Spock was about as useful to the Enterprise as the day he had been assigned to her.

In an effort to stimulate the reconstruction of his neural pathways, Spock had programmed the PADD with several Vulcan mind games. He had spent the large part of the day either in quiet observation of the goings-on in Sick Bay or in playing number games. While he played, he found his mind drifting back to Jim. For a captain of such a large ship, Jim certainly seemed preoccupied with his condition. Spock had been informed that the captain intended to visit him later that evening and that if his condition allowed it, take him on a short walk around the ship tomorrow morning. While Spock knew that Jim considered him a close friend, he could not help but feel guilty that he did not remember much, if any, of the time they had spent together over the last several years. It had seemed to him rather overly-intimate to visit him so early in the morning. Spock could not deny, however, that he had been touched by Jim's gesture.

Almost as if the thought had summoned him, Jim knocked at the door. When he stepped into the room, Spock put the PADD away.

"Captain." Spock said, making an attempt to sit up in bed.

"Wow, you look like a new vulcan." Jim said with a grin, peering at Spock in fascination.

Spock raised an eyebrow. He had not bothered to look in a mirror since this morning. Jim picked the mirror up from his bedside table and passed it to him. Looking in, Spock noticed that the open wounds had completely vanished and had been replaced by fresh, new skin. While looking a bit green where the new flesh had grown in, he looked much more himself. He was, however, still missing his eyebrow and he found the effect, admittedly... disturbing.

"The miracles of modern medicine." Jim said, sitting down in the chair next to Spock's bed.

"I must look rather frightening to you." Spock said handing Jim back the mirror.

"A bit." Jim shrugged. "How're your ribs?"

Spock felt them tentatively with his hand. "I am almost completely without pain, but pressing on them is uncomfortable."

"Remind me to buy Bones a bottle of Bourbon." Jim said, crossing his legs at the ankles and leaning back.

"Forgive me, Captain, but where would one buy Earth liquor in deep space?" Spock asked, lacing his fingers together.

"Oh, you'd be surprised." Jim smiled.

"I am certain that I would be." Spock said.

"There are some freighters that come out this far. In the name of Bourbon I'm sure there isn't much that Bones wouldn't do."

"I would tend to agree with you." Spock said, slightly surprised that he remembered that connection.

"Memory's coming back." Jim observed.

"It would appear that way." Spock said, his brow slightly furrowed.

"What's wrong?" Jim piped up.

"Ah..." Spock realized the expression he had been making. "It would appear that the lack of meditation is making it hard for me to control myself."

"You were barely even frowning." Jim replied.

"It is shameful to display emotion in the presence of one's superior." Spock stated simply.

Jim's jaw tensed, but he said nothing.

"As to what is bothering me, I can be more explicit." Spock said, looking up from his hands. "I am remembering certain things better than others."

"Like what?" Jim asked, looking up at Spock.

"I can recall a man named Nero and a conflict with... Romulans?" Spock said tentatively. "However I do not recognize anyone other than you and Dr. McCoy. I have been watching all day and observing rank. I know that there are several people on board I should instantly recognize. I can not."

"Spock, I don't think you realize the shape we found you in." Jim said slowly. "What happened with the Romulans happened four years ago. I'll tell you more about that later, it's a bit of a mind-bender. Especially for you... Both of you..."

"Both of me?" Spock asked, eyebrow raised.

"Yeah, see what I mean? I'll explain it all later. But we found you half-dead. If your heart was where a human's was, you would have been dead. For certain. It's a miracle you can speak let alone remember something that happened four years ago. I just don't want you worrying about it." Jim said, leaning forward.

"It is imperative that I learn. I am your First Officer." Spock replied.

Jim sighed deeply and looked down at his feet. "Not right now."

Spock looked onwards, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach.

"Sulu's taken over your duties for you until you recover." Jim said heavily.

Spock nodded. "I am sure he is a competent officer."

"Very much so." Jim nodded. "Look, it's only until your memory comes back and you recover."

"It is protocol that no officer serve compromised. I am not insulted." Spock said.

Jim looked skeptical. "You forget how well I know you."

Spock held Jim's gaze for a moment before breaking away. "It is logical for me to be replaced under my condition."

"You haven't been replaced." Jim said with a small sigh.

Spock fell quiet. "I apologize for putting you in this situation."

"Spock, don't." Jim said, leaning forward in his chair. He looked as if he were about to reach forward for Spock, but he changed his mind. "If you had died you would have died a hero at your post. You saved a lot of people."

"It was my duty. There is no heroism in duty." Spock replied.

"I know a lot of people who would disagree with you." Jim said, with a look of such warmth it triggered something inside Spock.

"Jim, I do not remember you." Spock blurted out.

Jim froze, a look of deep hurt etched onto his face. "I know."

"I remember you as an insolent cadet who cheated on my test. That is all." Spock continued to talk even though he knew he should stop. "I know that I should remember you as a friend and as a Captain but all I remember is you being left behind in the docking bay."

Jim nodded. "I don't expect you to."

"I know I should, Jim, but when I look at you it is impossible. There is something stopping me from recollecting your memory." Spock said, realizing he was hurting the Captain. He knew now that something was wrong; he could not stop talking.

Jim looked down at the floor. "Spock..."

"I remember thinking you were under-qualified and simply benefiting from sentimental favouritism from Pike due to your father's death." Spock knew he had crossed a line.

Jim stood up. "That's enough, Spock. I get it."

"I want to know you but looking at you makes me angry." Spock said suddenly.

Jim looked up at the ceiling, turned on his heel and left without saying anything.

What had he done?


	3. Chapter 3

Spock slumped back against the pillows, staring at the spot where Jim had just been. He could not believe that he had allowed himself to say such horrible things - even if they were true. Spock had learned long ago that it was best to keep some truths to himself amongst humans; they were particularly invested in what others thought of them.

"I thought this might happen." McCoy said more to himself than to Spock as he pushed into the room followed by a nurse.

"Doctor, I believe that my - "

"Yeah, you have even less of a filter than you had before?" McCoy interrupted, inserting a cartridge into the hypospray he held in his hand. "I thought that might happen. The serum's inhibited some of the functions of your frontal lobe while the synaptic pathway reconstructs itself. I'm going to give you something to stimulate the core processes again. That might shut off your valve for a second."

McCoy pressed the hypospray against Spock's neck.

"Doctor, I must admit I thought you were severly underqualified when we first met but you have proven me wrong." Spock said, grimacing slightly as the words came out unbidden.

"Yeah, yeah." McCoy grumbled, peering into Spock's eyes and then making notes. "Your pupils might be hyper-dilated for a while. I'm going to leave the lights off in here."

Right on cue, the room started to become brighter than was comfortable.

"I fear that I have compromised Jim emotionally." Spock said, squinting.

"Yeah, I knew you would, too." He said, walking back over to Spock. "That's why I told you to try to keep him away."

"I could not." Spock replied.

"I know that, too."

"Then what is there that I can do?" Spock asked, feeling slightly overwhelmed under the excruciatingly bright light and the stress of everything that had happened in the past twelve hours.

"Not a lot until your memory comes back." McCoy sighed, flicking off the lights.

"Doctor, I am concerned that my memory will not come back. I do not remember much more than I did last night." Spock said, relieved that the lights had been turned off.

"It's not going to come back very noticeably when you're conscious. Or at least, that's what I've observed in patients with memory loss. Did you have any weird dreams last night?" McCoy asked.

"Yes, I believe I did, now that I think on it." Spock replied, recalling how he had woken suddenly.

"Yeah. You're going to have another couple nights like that. Like I said, it should be another couple days before you're back to your old self." McCoy said.

"I certainly hope so." Spock said, leaning back against the pillows. He was starting to feel drowsy. "Doctor, I believe I am succumbing to some sort of drowsiness."

"'Night, Spock." McCoy said, tucking his clipboard under his arm and walking out of the room.

"But doctor, I do not want... to sleep..."

* * *

"_Are you out of your Vulcan mind? Are you making a logical choice sending Kirk away? Probably. But, the right one? You know, back home we have a saying: 'If you're gonna ride in the Kentucky Derby, you don't leave your prize stallion in the stable.'"_

_"A curious metaphor, doctor, as a stallion must first be broken before it can reach its potential."_

"_My God, man, you could at least _act_ like it was a hard decision."_

"_I intend to assist in the effort to reestablish communication with Starfleet. However, if crew morale is better served by my roaming the halls weeping, I will gladly defer to your medical expertise."_

Spock woke up with a dull throbbing in his head. It was uncomfortable, but not uncomfortable enough to shake away the memory of the dream he had just had. It was fading quickly and he frantically tried to hold onto it before it disappeared completely. He had been having some kind of conversation with another person who was quite angry with him. It was extremely odd – he knew that he had delivered the last statement he had made in the dream with confidence and surety, but on some level he knew that inside his emotions were tumultuous, threatening to take over at any moment. Fighting to put the pieces together, he realized with a start that he had been the captain of the Enterprise, that Jim had found his way on through sheer chance and that at that moment in time he had exiled him to a frozen wasteland.

This made his interaction with Jim yesterday even harder to comprehend. Spock knew that currently he was the first officer and Jim was the captain. How had that come to be? How had Jim replaced him even though he had been marooned on a wasted planet? How had Jim forgiven him for that and come to think of him as a friend?

Spock swung his legs tentatively over the side of the bed. With his head swimming with headache and with endless questions, he realized that he was finally capable of standing up with minimal discomfort. Slowly, gripping the bed rail, he pulled himself to standing. He hadn't been on his feet for several days, and his muscles were straining under the effort to hold him up. It took a few moments, but with significant effort, he moved one foot in front of the other until he had crossed from the side of the room with his bed in it to the opposite side with the window. He gazed out the window, enraptured by the lights that sped past him. Stars at warp speed. He found the view oddly... comforting.

Spock glanced up at the clock. It was 0700 hours. If he hurried, he may be able to get to the bridge in time for A shift to begin its routine. His legs were beginning to hold his weight with more ease, but he also had the problem that should he leave, the gown he was wearing would show the entire Enterprise his backside. Spock moved around the room looking for a change of clothes, but realized that someone had probably removed all clothing on purpose so that he could not leave. How typical of humans.

"Breakfast." someone said, knocking on the door from the outside.

"Come." Spock said, trying to get back into bed before the person outside realized he had been standing up.

A nurse came in followed by Doctor McCoy.

"Been walking around, have you?" McCoy asked, watching Spock try to climb back into bed while still maintaining some semblance of dignity.

"I am able to walk, but not far." Spock replied, gathering a blanket around his back and watching warily as McCoy walked around him.

"Well, that's alright. I thought it might be good for you to get up and take a tour of the Enterprise." McCoy said. "I think you'll realize we confiscated your civvies."

"My... civvies?" Spock asked, eyebrow raised.

"Civilian clothes. Day clothes." McCoy replied. "You know, the ones you wander around in when you're not on duty?"

"I am always in uniform." Spock replied quickly.

"Come to think of it, I guess you are." McCoy replied. "Good thing we brought you your old blue shirt, then. Get dressed and Jim's going to meet you here in about twenty minutes."

Spock paused.

"Jim, doctor?" Spock asked, realizing that he was rather ashamed of the way he had behaved yesterday. He knew that it was illogical to feel that way because his actions had been out of his control, but he could not shake the look of hurt that had spread across Jim's face the night before.

"Yeah. I briefed him on your little frontal lobe dilemma. Maybe just don't mention it. It might be easier that way." McCoy replied.

"I am unable to walk very far." Spock protested, the sudden urge to visit the Bridge he had had earlier disappearing at the thought of facing Jim.

"I'll get you a walker." McCoy retorted.

"I am not sure." Spock said, gathering the blankets around him as if to demonstrate he was staying.

"Well, I am. I'm sure as soon as you see Enterprise again a lot of the old pathways will be reopened." McCoy said. "Now. Up and 'attem."

* * *

Feeling slightly self-conscious at having been dressed by a nurse and being so weak on his feet, Spock stood awkwardly near the door to his room wondering if he dared to step out. Leaning heavily on the cane he had been loaned by Sick Bay, his legs were aching heavily. He was finding it quite difficult to control his emotions. It had been several days since he had been able to meditate and he was finding frustration was becoming more and more difficult to manage, especially as the nurse had accidentally scratched his leg while helping him with his pants. While he was grateful that he was alive, he found the way people were treating him was highly odd and perhaps more distant than before. He was looked on with, from what he could tell, something akin to indifference.

"How'd you sleep, Spock?"

Spock jumped at the voice and turned to see Jim coming up behind him. Jim clapped a hand on Spock's shoulder and smiled, his tone slightly more cheerful than Spock had expected.

"Very well, thank you, Captain." Spock said formally, feeling the uncomfortable sense of guilt rising inside him. "Sir – Jim, I would like to apologize for my actions – "

"Don't worry about it." Jim said quickly and tersely, dropping his hand from Spock's arm and twisting his mouth into something Spock imagined Jim thought was a smile.

"What I said was inaccurate." Spock persisted, even though it wasn't exactly the truth. It was clear that Jim knew that it hadn't been Spock's fault, but Spock also knew Jim would certainly have been offended or hurt by the things Spock had said about him. Spock had also learned that in some situations, it was better to slightly bend the truth than to let human offense linger and fester. While Spock had watched many a relationship between humans fail because they refused to be honest with one another, he knew that he had been indiscreet in his over-honesty the night before.

"Was it?" Jim asked, his lips pressed together tightly.

Spock raised his eyebrow. He was not expecting Jim to respond so informally especially in the face of a direct apology.

"Yes." Spock replied slowly, confused.

"You don't have to lie to me, Spock. I'm used to your blunt honesty." Jim said. Spock picked up the note of bitterness in Jim's voice and he immediately knew that it had been a mistake to bring yesterday up with him.

"Vulcans do not – "

"Lie?" Jim asked, his arms crossed. He looked over at McCoy who was determinedly not listening to their conversation. "Hey, Bones, last time you checked, Spock was only half vulcan, right?"

"Half too much for me." Bones said, shuffling his papers.

Spock's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"Spock, what you said yesterday was completely honest and accurate. I wasn't hurt because I know your memory is compromised. You're not the same person you were a week ago and I get it. You don't have to stretch the truth to spare my feelings. I was a little shit when we first met and I know that as well as you do. I think you'll remember that we hated each other at first." Jim said, managing a small laugh. "You're a hero, Spock. Don't worry too much about it."

Spock swallowed hard. He wasn't sure he should reply.

"Shall we start with engineering, then?" Jim asked, quickly changing his demeanour. "Come on, I'm determined to have a good time."

"After you, sir." Spock said, relieved that that little scene had come to an end.

* * *

"Mr. Spock!" a small man with a Scottish Earth accent said, leaping to his feet as Spock and Jim moved into engineering. He looked slightly the worse for wear, his arm in a sling at his side and a few small burns on the side of his face. "And the Captain, o' course."

Jim smiled. "Scotty."

Spock had very little recollection of this man. He certainly had not joined Enterprise from Starfleet Academy. Spock had remembered that he had done the crew assignment for the Enterprise before they had left Earth and he certainly did not recall anybody by the name of Scott.

Spock nodded politely at the man, deciding that, once again, it may be better to say nothing.

"Just showing him around." Jim said, nodding to Spock. "So, any luck with that nacelle?"

"Oh, yes. She's been giving me a hard time but..."

As Jim and Scotty conversed, Spock wandered off to look around. He recognized much of the equipment, though he expected that this was either a newer model of the Enterprise he had first boarded or had been recently renovated. The warp engine, or what he could see of it from here, was dazzlingly bright and seemed slightly smaller than the old one. He suspected that Star Fleet had dispensed quite a considerable sum into updating Enterprise with the newest technology. She was, of course, the flagship and should be treated as such.

Several crew members greeted him as he limped through engineering, often stopping to tell him how happy they were to see him up and about. Once again, he was struck by the fact that he recognized very few of them. He had, of course, done the roster for crew assignment many years ago and the crew must have been updated several times since. While he was thankful that he still recognized much of the technology, he realized that some of the new equipment would take quite a bit of reading-up on in order to fully understand them.

"Anything, Spock?" Jim asked, sidling up next to Spock. They both gazed over the railing to where the warp engine was humming contently.

"Nothing, Sir. I see that we have had several equipment upgrades." Spock said, realizing that even the lighting had been changed to higher efficiency bulbs.

"Yep. After San Francisco Enterprise was rebuilt from the hull up." Jim said. "The engine is top of the line. Good ol' Zefram would be proud."

"San Francisco, Sir?" Spock asked, an eyebrow raised.

Jim exhaled loudly and leaned forward against the railing, gazing out over the warp engine and the many people working below, "How much do you remember now?"

"I remember boarding Enterprise for the first time. I have a smattering of things that happened... I remember a vulcan named Nero and deserting you on a frozen wasteland." Spock said honestly.

"He wasn't a vulcan." Jim said, ignoring the last part. "Romulan."

"Romulan..." Spock said, rolling the word around in his mouth.

"Yeah, but you're not far off. I'm pretty sure some people have begun theorizing that your species are related, however distantly." Jim said.

"How fascinating." Spock said, watching as someone climbed a ladder to the top of the engine.

"There's a lot about that mission you're missing. Some big stuff." Jim said slowly.

"Sir?"

"I don't know if I should tell you. You should probably find out about some of these things on your own time." Jim sighed.

"Whatever you think is best." Spock replied.

"But that mission was about three years ago, give or take." Jim replied. "It's going to sound crazy if I explain to you what really happened. I mean, Star Fleet even had a hard time believing us."

Spock nodded. He was silent for a second before saying, "It involves time travel, does it not?"

Jim stood up, "Yeah, it does. Did you just remember that?"

"Yes." Spock said simply as a vision of a much older vulcan swam in and out of his mind. "Not much, though. I will listen to your Captain's logs tonight on the subject."

"To be honest, Spock, I didn't get around to making them as regularly as I should during that time." Jim admitted, leaning back down on the railing.

"It was a stressful time." Spock stated.

"To say the least." Jim said. "Anyways. You hungry? I can't wait to show you the replicators."

* * *

"This is a wonderful machine. I had not been keeping up to date on the advancements being made in the field of protein resequencers." Spock said, watching as Jim summoned a plate of pepperoni pizza and a glass bottle of Coca Cola from the replicator.

"Crazy, right? It's the latest thing. I swear, I'm going to weigh 300 pounds just from eating pizza." Jim laughed, taking a bite.

"I highly doubt it." Spock said, trying to decide what to order.

"You know, this tastes exactly like the pies I had when I was staying in New York." Jim said, his mouth full.

"Plomeek broth and – " Spock said, cut off by Jim.

"Another cool thing, you can request temperatures. Watch." Jim put his pizza down on the table next to him.

"Plomeek broth, 60 degrees centigrade." Jim said, putting his hands behind his back in a striking impersonation of Spock. "A very logical temperature for soup to be served at."

For a moment, Spock almost laughed.

"Did you just smile?!" Jim said, a huge grin spreading across his face. "Did that bump to the head knock a sense of humour into you?"

"I am not sure, sir." Spock said, maintaining a stony expression as he watched the bowl of soup materialize.

"Oh, you little liar." Jim grinned, pointing a finger playfully at Spock. "I saw it."

"Vulcans do not lie." Spock said instinctively.

"Don't pull that vulcan shit with me." Jim laughed, grabbing Spock by the arms and stepping towards him. "I would know that smile anywhere. You can't hide from me."

Jim laughed and looked up at Spock and, in that moment, Spock felt inexplicably as if he were exactly where he was supposed to be. Spock caught Jim's eye for a moment and they stood there together for a moment before Jim's smile faltered slightly. Letting go of Spock's arms, Jim cleared his throat.

"Anyways, Spock, you were caught in the act." Jim said, turning his back to Spock and picking up his pizza. "Is this spot okay?"

Spock wasn't sure whether he was relieved that Jim had let him go or if he wanted him to come back. Whatever the feeling was, he was not sure he wanted to experience it again. It was... confusing.

Spock's glance drifted across the room to the table near the window. "I was wondering if you might like to sit next to the window."

"I thought you might say that." Jim said, walking with his food over to the table.

The stars were streaming rapidly by the window and Spock could feel the thrum of the engine under his feet right here.

"I sit here often." Spock said, the vibration under his feet taking him back.

"Yeah, you do. And you don't usually let anyone sit with you, either." Jim laughed, taking another bite of pizza. "You want some? It's so good."

Spock eyed the slice warily.

"You like pizza." Jim said.

"I am a vegetarian." Spock said. "I will pass. Thank you for the offer."

"I'll just peel the pepperoni off." Jim said. "No problem."

"Jim, that does not make a food vegetarian. The food is still contaminated."

"What!" Jim exclaimed.

The rest of their meal went in largely the same manner. Spock had to admit that he was enjoying himself despite the ache in his leg and the fact that he was still missing the large part of one of his eyebrows. Spock found it easy to converse with Jim. It was as if they had been friends for many years. Spock supposed they had, but he barely remembered Jim as more than an insolent Academy graduate. However Spock remembered Jim before he knew now how wrong he had been.


End file.
